The Sequel, Take 2

All is black. A heartbeat monitor can be heard going in the background. Some shoes walking across a carpet. Muttering voices, all indisctinct. Suddenly, our view opens. It blinks a few times, like an eyelid, then opens up completely.

Voice: (Off-screen) She’s awake…hurry, go get Shrike.

Voice 2: Yes, sir.

A tall, lightly bearded man leans over us. A stethescope is dangling from his neck. He waves his hand a few times across the camera lens, then snaps his fingers a few times.

Kasperl: Tiara…Tiara, are you there?

We cut to an over-the-shoulder view of Kasperl, standing over Tiara. She is dressed in a hospital gown, but Kasperl is blocking her body from the chest down.

Tiara: Huh….what happened?

She tries to lift an arm to her head, but stops jerkily. She looks down, and kasperl moves a little to the left, so that we can see that Tiara has bands around her arms and legs. She puts her head back down on the pillow.

Tiara: (Sighs) Well, what happened?

Kasperl opens his mouth to explain, but suddenly Shrike bursts through the door. We rotate the camera around to look at him, and follow him with it, as he stops by Tiara’s bedside.

Shrike: Well, doc? She gonna be ok?

Kasperl: (Grudgingly) She’ll live… I don’t appreciate you smashing up the boarders with that hammer of yours, Shrike.

Shrike: (Grins) Sorry, doc. How you feeling, Tiara?

Tiara: Good enough. Aren’t you mad at me?

Shrike: (Chuckles) Doc…?

Kasperl reaches behind him into a small pan. He picks up a tiny, metallic object, no bigger than his finger nails. He hands it to Shrike, who shows it to Tiara.

Shrike: This, my female friend, was found in your brain. It’s an A-1 Brain Controller. Not made anymore, and all of them on the HLP boards were confiscated about three years ago. Not sure how it got into your cranium. (Gestures towards Kasperl) We were hoping that you could tell us?

Tiara: I…don’t know…last I remember…hell, I was eating breakfast!

Shrike: (Sighs) Oh, well. It was worth a shot.

He turns around to leave.

Tiara: Sir….

Shrike stops, and turns around to face Tiara.

Shrike: Yes?

Tiara: Can I have these armbands removed?

Shrike: (Monotone) No.

Tiara: Why?

Shrike: Tiara, you want the truth?

Tiara: Yes.

Shrike: The truth is, well, we can’t trust you anymore…

He turns and leaves, and Kasperl goes off to attend to other patients. Tiara sighs, and puts her head back down on the pillow. She closes her eyes, and goes to sleep. We cut to:

INT. Forum Control Room. Day

The admins are all seated around a large table, including Cloaked Figure. They are discussing the daily business, and trying to make sense of Tiara’s recent attack on Shrike. We are

Maeglamor: I just don’t get it…why would Tiara want to attack you?

Shrike: (Shakes head) We found a brain wave controller in her head.(A collective gasp goes up from the assembly) We’re still trying to figure out how it got there, though.

Sandwich: Maybe it was put there as…I don’t know…a joke?

Styxx: No way, not even our members are that sick. Maybe on the Freespace Watch boards, but not here.

Maeglamor: How can you be sure…?

Cloaked Figure suddenly stands up.

CF: If you’ll be…excusing me, I have some pressing business to attend to.

He takes a bow and walks quickly out the door. Styxx turns back to the rest of the group after watching him go.

Styxx: Now what was that all about…?

We cut to:

INT. Unknown Private Quarters. Day.

We open up to a Computer screen. Everything else is black. On it is a database-like interface. Across the top of the screen are is scrawled QUERY, followed by a flashing icon. It blinks for a few times, then suddenly, a word forms across.

PC Screen: Sandwich.

A loud click is heard as a button is depressed heavily. Suddenly, the computer screen begins to cycle through data, until it finally stops on a page. On it is a smiling picture of Sandwich. More info is to the right of the picture. The page begins to scroll down, until it stops on a lower portion of the screen.

PC Screen: Report User…A loud click is heard, and a window pops up. Across the top is the Report user text. Underneath it is a box labeled CODE. Numerous asteriks are typed in, followed by another loud click. The window expands to the entire screen, with a box, labeled OFFENSE. In the box is typed:

Another click is heard, and we wait a few minutes as the PC processes the request. Suddenly, it comes up with an error.

PC Screen: ERROR. User Max is still living.

We cut to the back of the PC. A hand plugs a cord into a socket on the side of the Computer. We cut to the side of the PC again, and another click is heard. The computer processes the request again. It comes up with a beep.

PC Screen: Crime Processed. Thank You.

We cut to a side-view of the figure’s waist. A long, thin knife is drawn from his belt. The figure lifts it high into the air. We cut to a view from outside in the well-lit corridor. A whoosh is heard, followed by a loud, blood-curdling scream. We fade to black.

just another newbie without any modding, FREDding or real programming experienceyou haven't learned masochism until you've tried to read a Microsoft help file. -- Goober5000I've got 2 drug-addict syblings and one alcoholic whore. And I'm a ****ing sociopath --an0nYou cannot defeat Windows through strength alone. Only patience, a lot of good luck, and a sledgehammer will do the job. --StratComm

The Sequel, Take 2

Sorry dudes, i can't write today. Just one of those "author" things...

This is all I got done before my brain pooped out:

INT. Forum Ready Room. Day.

There are a few boarders milling around. Some are checking their weapons, some are suiting up, but no one's doing any one thing in particular. Deep_Eyes is off dancing around with a lampshade on his head, and his shirt missing, with the words "PUDDING PIE" scrawled across his chest. He's dancing to some bizare punk rock. Suddenly, we hear a whoosh. We rotate the camera to face the sound, and in steps darkage. Stratcomm stands up and salutes him.

darkage: At ease, soldier...

Stratcomm: Yes, sir!

Darkage looks around.

Darkage: Where is everybody?

Stratcomm: Some aren't here, and some are simply off ****ting in the bathrooms, but most are still in the hospital.

He pauses and looks around. Then manages a slight chuckle.

Stratcomm: Actually, sir, you're about a week early. We haven't, ahhh, had time to clean up yet.

Darkage looks back at Deep Eyes, who has now fallen on top of one of the benches, snoring loudly, a large puddle of drool forming beneath him.

Darkage: Hmmm...I can see that. Oh, by the way, where's Gortef? I want to talk to him about something...

Stractomm: He just went out on a patrol, sir, he should be back any minute now.